According to Latimer, Juno is arguably the real-life embodiment of Atwood’s satire The Handmaid’s tale. Latimer notes that at the time Atwood wrote The Handmaid’s Tale, political conversations regarding women’s rights and the topic of abortion were re-surfacing, creating new and diverse discourses. She points out that at this time, pro-life rhetoric was becoming so pervasive that it oddly began to re-shape pro-choice rhetoric, in that all sides began to frame abortion as a traumatic decision, but a decision (or choice) nonetheless, rather than a liberating decision (or choice).
In Atwood’s satire, the handmaids are subjected to gendered servitude, and act only as fertile vessels for reproduction (mostly reproduction of the state). The handmaids are made to believe that they have freedom from the abominations of the time before (abortion, pornography etc.), when in reality, most handmaids are longing for their old lives.
Latimer notes that this seemingly absurd portrayal of freedom and choice in The Handmaid’s tale is arguably becoming normalized via endearing, charming and popular movies such as Juno. To exemplify this, Latimer notes that although Juno dabbles with the choice of abortion, she ultimately makes the ‘right’ choice by having the child. Juno is therefore reflecting an ‘abortion as traumatic’ rather than liberating discourse. Moreover, the fact that Juno’s decision is considered a choice at all is in need of close analysis. Is it truly a choice if societal pressures coerce you into making the ‘right’ choice?
Critical Reflection:
I don’t think I have ever analyzed freedom and choice as closely as I have after this week’s readings. In Canada, women are made to believe that freedom to choose exists. However, the media is constantly adopting specific politics, politics that profoundly value some ‘choices’ over others. How can this be considered choice? I truly think of it as coercion, where choosing abortion is framed as traumatic (despite scientific evidence that suggests otherwise) whether you are ‘pro-life’ or ‘pro-choice’.
I didn’t sense that there were societal pressures that were forcing Juno’s choice at the abortion clinic. She certainly didn’t feel shamed to the point of avoiding the abortion clinic; rather she listened deeply to herself and made a deeply individual choice. That’s what makes this story so interesting. It doesn’t fit the neat little narrative of pro-choice people always getting abortions, or pro-life people being the only ones who give up children for adoption.
Being pro-choice doesn’t entail being pro-nuance, or pro-complexity, at least not usually. It means being pro-access, and anti-eroding women’s access to abortions in the public sphere. These subtexts are often quite threatening to access when mobilized against the popular perceptions of abortion.
When Juno cites her reason for aborting her abortion was that it smelled like a “dentist’s office,” I related to that. Not because I have had an abortion, but because I hate dentists offices and avoid them. I take steps that help me avoid them, like brushing my teeth, but when that fails I’m glad I have the choice to let someone do terrible, healthy things to my mouth. I would probably resist more if there was enormous social pressure forcing me to get a wisdom tooth removed, but I’m nonetheless glad that I have access to dentistry. (Though we need more public funding for it!)
I think we need to find more common ground between pro-life and pro-choice camps. One thing I hope we can all agree is that an abortion is a minor surgery that is at least as unappealing as dentistry. I don’t think we need to pretend that minor surgeries or pharmaceutical miscarriage are without inconvenience or discomfort, and I think it’s fine to disagree on the degree to which these polarities are true to each woman. These tiny bits of common ground can become spaces where we have meaningful conversations about women’s rights and access to healthcare.